Dark Heart, Bright Soul
by goldnote
Summary: The team can't stand House and his toxic attitude... Will a day off show him what he really wants? HouseCameron. Rated T because it's House... COMPLETE!
1. Chapter 1

_I was getting very bored with "Pale Words" and I was tired about not writing Cameron into a story as a living person. I miss when she was still alive in my twisted world of House fanfiction... Ah, the days of "Music" and "Just Once" come flooding back... Anyway, I just wanted to write a short little story about Cam and House and the rest of the group, mostly because the title just sprung into my head and I couldn't just ignore that. My ideas usually like to smack me around a little if I don't let them out, so here we are!_

* * *

Dark Heart, Bright Soul

"He just needs some time off," Cameron said, tapping her pen on the glass tabletop. "When was the last time House took a day to himself without being sick or trying to avoid something?"

"See, that's just not House," Foreman replied, leaning back in his chair. "House wouldn't be himself if he wasn't either sick or trying to avoid something. What would he do on a personal day? Honestly, the man has no life outside the hospital."

"Who says you can't love your work?" Chase asked, slumping against the counter where the coffee was brewing, filling the room with it's rich scent. "Cam, can you stop tapping your pen?"

"No one said he loved it," she replied, staring him down. "And no, I can't stop it."

"Either way, Cuddy is going to force him to take a few days off. No one can keep going without getting burned out once in a while, right?"

Foreman seemed to make the most sense out of the group and the ducklings nodded. Cameron put her pen down as Chase brought her a cup of coffee and the three doctors sat around the table in silence, each lost in their own thoughts.

House had been stressing lately; more than usual, that is. Instead of being his usual psychotic self, he had taken on a bitter personality that was worse than how he usually acted. Instead of being sarcastic, he was cruel. Instead of being clever, he was being venomous. The definitions of these words vary from person to person, so who was to say how House was exactly acting? No matter what words the three doctors tried to come up with to describe the change that had come over House, there was no describing how different the doctor was acting. He had sunk deeper and deeper into his self induced depression, making life miserable whereas life had been livable before this change.

"Why must we all gather here?" House asked bitterly, slamming the door open with his cane, the sharp smack of metal on glass causing Chase to spill his coffee. "Really, there must be better things for you to do than babble like a group of beauty parlor hags."

"House, we need to go over the file that-"

"Foreman, are you ever off task?" House snapped, interrupting the doctor. "Honestly, the other doctors are becoming depressed that they just can't live up to your level."

"This has gone on long enough," Cameron said, standing up and facing House. "You've been like this all week. We didn't say anything Monday, we ignored it on Tuesday, and we've been dealing with until now. It's Friday and you need to tell us what's wrong."

"Are you saying that, because it's Friday, I need to tell you, or because I need to tell you, it must be Friday?"

"Did that make any sense to you?" Foreman asked Chase, who was standing by the sink, trying to mop the coffee off his jacket before it left a stain. Chase ignored Foreman, knowing that the moment he said anything, House would pounce on him, too.

"House, sit down," Cameron said softly, but House shook his head and pushed her down into the chair. Cameron tried to stand back up, but House pushed her back down.

"I can do this all day," he snapped, and Cameron finally stayed sitting on the chair, furious.

"Listen, House, we have a problem here. We have to work with you and we never say anything when you are acting miserable, but this really is too much," Foreman said, leaning forward and resting his elbows on the tabletop. "Cuddy came in here and told us that you have until your shift is over today to schedule vacation time. If you don't pick at least one day next week to be gone, she is going to pick one for you."

House was silent as he rested against the white board, frowning.

"So, you mean to tell me," House said finally, "That I have until lunchtime to pick a day off. In the middle of all the chaos, Dr. House has to leave?"

"More like when you leave," Chase muttered, "You bring the chaos with you."

House shot him a dirty look and Chase ignored it, nearly done cleaning his coffee mess.

"Fine," House snapped. "I'm going to take Monday off and, when I come back on Tuesday, I guarantee I am just going to be the same. There is no way that a day off of work is going to cure all ills."

House hobbled out of the room, leaving three very disgruntled doctors in his wake.

* * *

Cameron sighed as she organized the files on House's desk. Since he was gone, she was going to take this opportunity to clean. If she had to sit in the room, she was going to fix it up to her standards, which meant no patient files laying in heaps under the desk. House had indeed taken that day off, and it felt strange to her that he would not be there. Usually, if he was gone, she was either calling his house and asking him if he needed anything to feel better, or she was calling Cuddy to inquire about what House had done. She didn't think she could ever get used to having House gone.

Life seemed pretty strange without House in the office, and it was hardly noon.

"Dr. Cameron, you are needed in the main lobby. Dr. Cameron, to the main lobby."

Sighing, she stood and took the elevator down to the main floor, wondering how many more records she was going to have to put away that day on top of her usual work. Instead, she saw House leaning against the front desk, something large, round, and black in his hand. He threw it to her and Cameron caught it, hardly knowing what he had thrown at her until she turned it over in her hand. It was a motorcycle helmet.

"Come on," he said, turning around and walking out the front doors to where his bike waited, the motor humming. "I already punched you out."

"Where are we going?" Cameron asked, following him outside.

"Out to lunch," House said, climbing on the bike and revving the motor, waiting for her to join him.

As Cameron got on the motorcycle and clumsily placed her arms around his waist, she decided that she could get used to this.

_

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There we are! Thanks so much for reading and please leave me a review! Thanks again!_


	2. Chapter 2

_Thank you for all the really great reviews so far! I just love all the awesome things everyone has to say! You are such great readers! Anyway, this story was supposed to be a one shot, but I guess I failed to mention that in the summary when I first posted it. I was going to go back and repost it with an author's note saying that this was a one shot and was going to remain that way, but I decided that, due to popular demand, this would become an actual story. I don't know how many chapters it is going to have, but I know it isn't going to be as long as my other House "novels," just a few chapters at most. _

_Since House and Cameron are now out to lunch, I'm going to slow things down a bit. Since I saw no future for this story, I just pushed them into a situation. Hehe. Silly me... So, I'll come to explain everything and it will all make sense! Here we go!_

_I would also name my chapters, usually, but I'm just going to keep it plain for this story._

**

* * *

Chapter Two**

Cameron was scared of the motorcycle, but not as much as she thought she would be. She had never ridden on one before and didn't want to lose her balance and fall off, especially around the sharp turns House made; but she also didn't want to tighten her grip on him, unsure of what to do. This was very unlike House. Normally, he took his lunch alone in his office, or in the hospital cafeteria with Wilson. Cameron never saw him go out to lunch before now. And she was with him.

The motorcycle came to a stop about ten minutes away from the hospital in front of a little restaurant, more like a French cafe than anything, judging by the patio in front. How cliché, Cameron thought as House killed the engine and got off the bike, gesturing to Cameron for his cane. Bewildered, Cameron slid the cane out of it's holder by her side and he snatched it from her, hanging his helmet off the handle of the motorcycle. She took off her own helmet and did the same before getting off the machine, uncertain of how to try getting off first. House made to walk away, but shook his head and roughly grabbed her hand, pulling her off. Cameron blushed and followed House into the cafe, realizing she was still in her hospital jacket.

"Sit down, I'll get a waiter," House said abruptly, hobbling into the restaurant. Cameron sat down in a chair on the patio, enjoying the shade the red and white striped umbrella offered. She felt a little shaky and light, as if she was a cotton ball being buffeted by a breeze. Cameron decided she had enjoyed the ride and was almost eagerly anticipating the ride back to the hospital. She folded her hands on the table and bowed her head, taking in a deep breath. The air smelled so beautiful, the flowers in the pots near the table fragrant and colorful. The sky was such an amazing color of blue and the clouds were such a bright white that Cameron wouldn't have been able to look at them for long if she had even noticed them. It was a near perfect summer day, early enough in the season that everything was still fresh and alive instead of burnt to a crisp under the unforgiving sun. The dull thump of a cane on the patio told her that House was coming and Cameron straightened up, folding her arms across her chest.

"I thought you said that you were getting a waiter," she said, glancing around briefly as House took a chair across from her and laid his cane across the table. Cameron looked at the cane curiously; it was such a rich color of wood, polished to a sheen, but covered in little dents and scratches from where House had hit it against something or tried to keep himself from falling. House, watching her look at the cane, took it off the table, laying it across his lap instead.

"He's coming," he said, his usual dark timbre strange against the landscape of the gorgeous day. Cameron nodded, contemplating why House would have taken his cane away after she looked at it.

"Don't ask," he said, and Cameron jumped. Did he read her mind? How did he know? She bit her lip and tried to read the expression on his face, his eyes glancing her over before looking into the cafe.

"I get that a lot," House said. "I don't know why I still forget that it's poor table manners to put my cane on the table. All the germs, I suppose."

Being his usual sarcastic self, House couldn't help but to add a fake shiver or horror at the mention of germs and Cameron rolled her eyes. Trust House to act like himself, even- Wait. House was acting like his usual self, not that exceedingly nasty person he had become over the past week. Cameron decided not to think about it at the moment. She didn't want to break the spell.

"Garçon!" House called to a man with the classic waiter 'look' about him. The waiter cast a withering glance to House and then to Cameron before walking over, taking an order book out of his apron pocket.

"Oui, Monsieur?"

"Un diabolo menthe, s'il vous plaît."

"Et toi?"

House and the waiter looked expectantly at Cameron, who was startled. She didn't know a word of French. House, realizing this, took control of the situation.

"Un thé citron," House ordered for her, smirking slightly as Cameron flushed red.

"Un moment, Mademoiselle, Mousieur..."

The waiter walked off and House grinned at Cameron, spirits lifted because he knew something she didn't.

"I didn't know you spoke French!" she exclaimed. "How did you learn?"

"When a man has all the time in the world, he might as well do something with it," House replied, shrugging. "I'm just worried that cranky waiter is going to come back with something awful, like a gun. Who ate his waffles?"

Cameron and House sat in silence until the waiter came back and House showed off his French skills for Cameron once more.

"Le déjeuner?"

"Oui. Un croque-monsieur et une omelette au fromage, s'il vous plaît. Et, un pain au chocolat, une brioche, et un chasusson aux pommes"

"Oui, Mademoiselle, Monsieur."

Cameron's mouth dropped.

"You didn't just order me snails or anything, did you?"

"No, I ordered a grilled cheese sandwich, a cheese omelette, a roll with chocolate in the middle, a plain roll, and a pastry with cooked apple slices."

"All for you?"

"Of course. Were you planning on eating anything? Silly me..."

Cameron should have expected that. She smiled and thought she saw a hint of a smile flit across his face, too. Suddenly, there was a loud barking as a lady with two large dogs walked by, the dogs catching sight of House and barking wildly, straining on their leash to get to him. They were not trying to be friendly, however, and House brandished his cane like a fencing sword, preparing to ward off the dogs if they were to break free. As the lady led the dogs away, giving Cameron an apologetic look, never even making eye contact with House, the grim doctor hooked his cane on the table edge and snarled to himself.

"Are you alright?" Cameron asked House, a little stunned by the scene that had just unfolded before her. House nodded.

"It's fine. Dogs barking at me is nothing new," he muttered bitterly. "I don't blame them for being scared."

"They-"

"Cameron," House said coldly, "Don't try to tell me everything is alright."

"But, you are not-"

"Don't start with the fairy tale notions of beauty and ugliness and then try to smudge the line between them. I know I'm awful. I just don't care."

Cameron sat in silence and then muttered an apology, an apology House shrugged off. The waiter came and brought a tray of items, placing them on the table before them, the balance due under one of the pastry dishes. House took the slip of paper before Cameron could and shook his head.

"This doesn't matter to you," he said, taking a look and then folding it.

"But, let me pay for-"

Cameron realized she had not brought her purse. She shook her head and sighed.

"I'm sorry; let me pay for my share when we get back to the hospital."

"Just eat, Cameron," he answered, taking the grilled cheese sandwich from the tray and sipping his drink. Cameron took what he had ordered for her and smiled, despite the strangeness of it all.

_

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There we go! I'm sorry about the French part. I really wanted to include that! I took a year of French in high school and I didn't enjoy it, but I thought it would be really great to make House order the food with some "class." I thought that was fun! Sorry if the little accents were not in place and I humbly apologize if I had anything wrong. I really enjoyed working on this chapter. It's nice to have a story where Cameron isn't dead and House can order her lunch. Hehe. More chapters to come! Thanks so much for reading and please tell me what you think! Thanks again!_


	3. Chapter 3

_Sorry for the delay for this chapter! I wasn't sure on what I wanted to do to continue this story and I still don't know how long it's going to be, but I want to keep it under ten chapters, if possible. I have so many little ideas for one shots, but I'm combining them into this story. So, it's a big mixing bowl for my House ideas that can't fit into "Pale Words," the other story I'm working on (sequel to "The Heart Of A Fool," in case any of you go to read it and get confused! ) So, I like avoiding angst in this story, although I add in a bit here and there because that's just the way I write. I wouldn't be me if I didn't have just a bit of angst in a story. (I'm babbling again and that's never good unless it's productive to the story, which this isn't...) Anyway, I want this to be a happy little romance between House and Cameron, light and sweet. Enjoy and please tell me what you think. (Sorry for all you fans of French dialog. In the next chapter for sure there will be French...)_

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Chapter Three

Cameron stood in front of her closet, biting her lip. This was much harder than she thought.

This skirt? No, too long.

This belt? No, too big.

These shoes? No, too much heel.

This shirt? No, too-

Cameron couldn't find the word for the shirt, but she knew it wasn't it. Angrily, she took it off it's hanger and looked it over in her hands, discarding it as soon as something caught her eye back inside the closet. Dressing for dinner was one thing, dressing for a date was another.

After lunch out, House had driven her back to the hospital and dropped her off at the front doors. Cameron had almost forgotten to take the helmet off her head, embarrassing herself. She decided that her new favorite things was riding the motorcycle, even though the speed on which House took his turns was frightening. It was thrilling to go so fast, not having to worry about anything for a few short minutes, just smiling into the back of House's shirt.

After getting off the bike and handing the helmet back to House, she had thanked him for lunch and offered to get her purse to pay him, but he had shook his head no.

"What part of 'I'm paying' don't you get?" he had snapped, not unkindly. "You're not paying for lunch. If you insist, though, you can pay for dinner."

"Dinner?" she remembered herself asking breathlessly. Cameron blushed as she stood there in front of her closet. She had acted like such a little girl, going back to the afternoon. "What do you mean, dinner?"

"I mean, as in you and I go to dinner and you pay," he replied. "Unless you would rather not pay. I supposed we could dine-and-dash, but I don't think I would get very far."

She had stammered out an apology and watched a faint smile creep over House's face.

"Dinner, tomorrow night? Same place?"

Cameron had agreed and watched House roar off with his motorcycle, off to enjoy the rest of his day off, if House could actually enjoy himself without picking on his co-workers. She had felt like she was floating on air the rest of the day, a smile on her face without realizing it. Foreman and Chase had raised their eyebrows, but had not said a word. Cameron wasn't even bothered by the fact that she had to take over House's clinic duty because of his absence. She bet he would have regretted his decision to ask Cameron to dinner if he would have known how thrilled she was. It wasn't like him to make people happy. It was his job to fix people, but not to make them happy.

Glancing at the clock and seeing that it was already very late and she still had work the next day, Cameron decided on a light red dress, very feminine, but not sickeningly sweet with bunches of lace. She knew House would laugh at her if she wore something like that. Cameron curled into bed, ignoring the pile of clothes on the floor. She would put them away tomorrow before she left for work.

Was this really happening? Was she actually going on a date with House? Cameron smiled to herself. It was so strange, she couldn't find words for it. She noticed she was having trouble finding words at all today; he had left her speechless. Cameron sighed and turned off the lamp, determined to turn back into the person she knew by the next morning, but she couldn't help the fact her dreams were full of French waiters, doctors, and motorcycles.

_

* * *

Sounds like Cameron is more in love with House's motorcycle than House himself! Hehe. I hope you enjoyed. I know that Cameron is "all grown up" but I still see her in my mind's eye as younger and still innocent, sort of. I know that's not really her character, but I'm the author and I can do as I wish. (To a point, before the readers get me...) Thanks again for reading and I'll be sure to update soon._


	4. Chapter 4

_Sorry for the delay in chapters! I've just been so busy lately. I know that excuse is so old, but life honestly needs to slow down a little. I have papers in my purse that have ideas for my stories written on them and they are all spread out around me right now! I'm thinking that within a few chapters, this story will be done for, and I am so thrilled so many people have added this story to their alert list! Hehe... I am shocked that, everyday, the numbers go up! Thank you to everyone who put this on their alert list and a special thank you to everyone who puts this on their favorite stories list! Onward!_

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Chapter Four

Cameron sat down at her desk, thankful she had some time to herself. Foreman and Chase had no idea that she had a date with the boss that night and she was finding it harder and harder to keep it to herself. There was a little voice inside that wanted to scream to the world that she had a date, that she was going to be going out to a fancy French cafe, that she was going to- be paying to dinner. Cameron bit her lip; she needed to remember to stop by the bank on her way home.

Looking around for her pad of sticky-notes, she knew House had been here; wherever he went, he made a mess. This wasn't the first time he had raided her office for things, either, and she hoped he had not taken the sticky notes like he had taken all her paper clips, Cameron noticed, seeing the empty dish in her drawer that used to hold paper clips. Eventually, she found the pad of sticky notes and was about to rip one off before she noticed the writing on it.

_Cameron,_

_I will pick you up at seven sharp. Be dressed and ready to go._

_Remember our deal._

_Love, _

_House_

Cameron laughed to herself. Had he actually wrote the word 'love' at the bottom? This was not something he would normally do; normally, he would write something like 'From your favorite jerk' or his plain name. Love? Cameron laughed harder as she scribbled out a response, tucking the note he wrote into her lab coat pocket.

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House stepped into his office, sighing thankfully that no one was there. He couldn't stand having to keep the secret of dinner away from the ducklings who were not going with, or from Wilson, for that matter. Wilson could always see something was going on, no matter how hard House tried to hide it.

Batting files off his desk, House hardly felt bad for making a mess. He had just trashed Cameron's desk and found a new supply of paper clips. Carefully, he started to connect them, making a paper clip string. He didn't know what to do with them when he was done, he never knew what to do with them besides take them apart and start over, but it was relaxing just the same. Plus, if he had clinic duty at all, he had an excuse to say he was busy.

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see a bright lime green note, stuck to his desk. Putting down the handful of paper clips, House took the note and read it.

_House,_

_What are you wearing? I don't want to be over dressed. I'm wearing red._

_I remember the deal; you won't have to pay._

_Love,_

_Cameron_

House snorted. Love? He shouldn't have thrown that word around so nonchalantly; now she was using it, too. Soon, it would become a word in their regular, everyday vocabulary and he was going to let it slip somehow in front of everyone else while talking to her. Love. House snorted again and made to fold the note and toss it out. He noticed that there was still one more note stuck to the backside of it, a plain bit of paper for him to answer back with.

Taking one last look at the paper clips on his desk, House jotted something back, hesitating as he got to the last word before his name.

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Cameron had managed to avoid nearly everyone all day. She had not even seen House for fear she would say something stupid to his face and ruin their night already. As she entered her office and slipped off her lab coat, Cameron noticed the bright green note was back, just as she had hoped. Walking carefully to the desk, trying to hold back her excitement, Cameron read what he had wrote.

_Cameron,_

_Don't wear a necklace._

_The deal isn't all that important._

_Love,_

_House_

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She heard the horn of the motorcycle outside her front door long after she heard the roar of the engine. Cameron bit her lip in frustration.

"Just a second," she called from her bedroom, knowing very well he couldn't hear her. It was her own stupid fault for not thinking logically about her choice of dress and now she would have to suffer the consequences. Turning off the lights and grabbing her purse from the end table, Cameron ran through the house, shutting everything down before opening the front door and stepping out to meet House.

She was pleased to see he had exchanged his jeans for dress pants and his sports coat was meticulously clean. There was still stubble from the last time he had shaved, but his hair was combed and she smiled as his eyes focused on her.

"You look nice," he said bluntly, killing the engine and stepping off the motorcycle, grabbing his cane from the holder.

"Thanks," she said, knowing she was blushing. "I didn't know we were taking the motorcycle or I would have dressed for it."

"Were you expecting us to walk there?"

"No, but- I just- I'll go and change it you wait for me."

"You can still ride in that dress. Unless you would prefer to take it off and get dressed when we reach the restaurant?"

House was resorting back to his usual nasty self until he realized that was the perfect way to ruin the night. Her red dress was long enough to prove difficult for her to mount the bike, but short enough that he smiled self consciously at the hemline. He had never seen Cameron dressed up before, much less dressed up for him. Besides, if she changed, it would ruin the 'gift.' Suddenly, his 'gift' seemed stupid. It was probably stupid to begin with, but at the time it had seemed like a good idea.

"You can sit sideways," House muttered, reaching into his pocket, hoping he had forgot the gift and wouldn't have to give it to her and humiliate himself.

"Good idea," Cameron answered, curious as to why House was looking so uncomfortable and digging around in his jacket pocket. "What do you have?"

"The reason why you wouldn't wear a necklace," House answered, deciding that if she hated it, she could toss it out or just not wear it. He pulled it out and showed her in the dim light coming from the street lamp.

It was a necklace made of paper clips.

Cameron was shocked. Paper clips? That's where her office supplies had gone to! House had too much time on his hands if he was making her jewelry out of functional items that often snapped and cut your fingers if you used them more than a handful of times. The necklace was more than just a string of paper clips, however, with smaller clips dangling from larger clips and everything in such a detailed pattern that, if it was made of any other material, the necklace would look like a work of art. House had found small red and clear glass beads somewhere and had put them on the clips, the near exact color of her dress.

"I stopped by the craft store after work," House said softly, embarrassed. "You had mentioned you were wearing red. I understand if you don't like it. I don't like it."

Cameron stood there for a moment before turning around and picking up her hair, which she had brushed back into a wavy ponytail, held by a ornate clip.

"If you could put it on, that would be great. I don't want to break it."

Carefully, House walked up to Cameron and slid the art project over her neck, his fingers almost fumbling with the little paper clips that would snap together to hold the necklace in place. He stepped back after a few tenuous moments of being so close, smelling the lavender and sweet mint that hung like a peaceful cloud around her.

"Come on," House said, getting back on his motorcycle and starting the engine. He helped her onto the bike and made sure she wouldn't fall off during the ride, trying to ignore the fact he had something so beautiful sitting right next to him. After all, during lunch yesterday, they had done the same thing.

Only she wasn't in a red dress, wearing his gift, like she was now.

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_Aw, so sappy, I know. Now, I also know that House would never go to that extreme and make Cameron a paper clip necklace (it seems so juvenile) but I do see House making little things out of paper clips because his personality is just that way... So, I wanted to make it cute, but I'm sorry if I made it too cute and made House out of character. House will be more like his old self in the next chapter when they are actually at dinner._

_Thanks so much for reading and please tell me what you think! Thanks so much!_


	5. Chapter 5

_Hello! It really took me a while to get this chapter out, didn't it? Hehe... I'm sorry, but here we go with a really good chapter, the fifth, right? Wow, I've gotten further than I thought I would, actually... _

_I know I said there would be French in the last chapter and there wasn't, so I apologize! There is French in this chapter!_

_Okay, I know this sounds stupid, but just the other night I was watching a House re-run and it was one I had never seen before, with the lady who chronically makes herself sick and House ends up drugging her to induce the symptoms for the disease he thinks she has. In that episode, House and Cameron go to check out her house and House throws Cam the helmet and she rides his bike. So, when I was watching this, my jaw was open and I was like "No way! I never saw this episode before and that's how I imagine it to be in Dark Heart, Bright Soul! No way!" I apologize to any of you who are rolling your eyes right now and thinking, "Well, duh!" Last winter, I was gone a lot over the nights House was shown and not all of them were taped! So, if something sounds too familiar, I probably didn't see it; I might not even know it existed! Hehe... _

_Onward; you want to read a story, not a babble!_

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Chapter Five

Cameron's hand ran over the necklace, her fingertips rolling the beads back and forth over her skin, causing the metal to shine in the light coming from the candle lit patio. They had disturbed several couples already, the motorcycle roaring up to the French restaurant, the engine drowning out the beautiful piano music coming from inside. House had parked the bike in front of the patio, also, causing several people to complain about obstruction of view. So far, Cameron was having a wonderful evening and dinner had not even began, but she wondered how long the date would last before House got them kicked out.

"Would you like to sit inside?" House asked, hobbling along beside her. Cameron blushed before answering.

"Um, well, we could sit- Um, we could sit-"

House stopped and looked at her, eyes never wavering, a smirk on his face. Cameron blushed harder and looked down at her shoes, rubbing at the necklace nervously.

"Are we just going to eat standing up, or would you like to pick a spot?"

"Where would you-"

"Cameron, just pick a place to sit. All the blood is going to rush to your head soon if you don't stop blushing and I don't think I could catch you if you fainted."

Cameron nodded and forced herself to take several deep breaths, ignoring his caustic tone.

"How about we sit over there?" she asked, pointing to the table under the red and white striped umbrella where they had sat at lunch the previous day. House wordlessly led the way, Cameron following him with her head bowed. What an idiot she was being! It was like she had never been on a date before in her life!

She bumped into something hard, the hard thing yielding slightly as Cameron looked up suddenly, nearly dropping her purse as she took a quick step back. Her eyes made contact with House's eyes and Cameron bit her lip.

"Sorry," she said, "But why did you stop?"

"I was going to take Wilson's advice and pull out your chair for you," House answered, raising his eyebrows. "Of course, if you would rather I just sit down first..."

House trailed off as he pulled her chair out for her and gestured for her to sit. Cameron did so, holding her breath as he pushed her back to the table. She let out a nervous chuckle as House sat down, once again placing his cane on the table before remembering he was not supposed to. Cameron tried to catch a glimpse of the scratches and chips on the cane before House placed it on the edge of the table, the handle clinging desperately to the end of the table to keep from falling to the ground. It was too dark, however, and Cameron tried to ignore the look House was giving her.

"Have you been on a date before?" he asked suddenly, mocking her. "I mean, you show up dressed in- that," House gestured to her dress, "And then you run into me, but not before making us both wait to find a table."

Cameron frowned, ready to comment on something House had said earlier, but, before she could speak, a waiter with a strong French accent strode to the table, taking menus out from under his arm with a flourish.

"Bon soir, Mademoiselle, Monsieur! Je m'appelle Michel et je-"

The waiter stopped talking as he realized it was the doctor and his lady friend, back again, and Cameron's eyes widened as she realized it was the same waiter as the other day. She did not fail to notice the waiter's eyes narrow at the sight of House, and House simply looked at the garçon with an innocent face.

"You were saying?" House prompted, raising his eyebrows expectantly. "You wouldn't want to break that phony French dialog, right? Are those menus?"

The waiter tossed the menus on the table and snarled softly in English that he would be back soon to take their orders. House, looking rather pleased with himself, handed a menu to Cameron and started to flip through his own, Cameron horrified.

"You just insulted him," she hissed, "You had no right to tease him about his accent!"

"I wasn't teasing him about his accent, I was teasing him about his language," House corrected. "If you're going to admonish me, do it correctly."

"Sorry," Cameron muttered again, taking her menu from House's hand and sighing sharply. "I just don't see why you have to be so nasty."

"I wasn't-" House sighed just as Cameron had before continuing. "Look, does it matter? Let's just eat, okay? By the time it would take us to get to another restaurant and for you to pick a new table, all the restaurants in the area would be closing."

Cameron looked at her menu, hardly concentrating on the words in front of her. House was becoming more and more venomous by the moment and Cameron doubted her good night was going to continue with this attitude. Deciding to put it behind her, Cameron took a closer look at her menu, only to find out it was all in French. Taking a quick glance at House to make sure he had not seen her initial confusion, Cameron went back to the menu, determined to make sense of it and order for herself.

As she carefully mouthed the words to herself off the menu of what she was going to order, Cameron felt eyes staring at her, making her uncomfortable. Finally, she looked up to see House simply watching her, face void of expression.

"Problems?" she asked, trying to be sarcastic.

"Yes. I can't remember our order through your mumbling."

"Our order? I'm ordering for myself!"

"Fine, fine."

House held up his hands defensively before closing his menu with a snap.

"Garçon!" House called, snapping his fingers. Cameron felt her face turn red as other customers, who had been enjoying small talk and the music coming from indoors, looked over at the rude man she was sitting across from; she felt the urge to sink under the table and never come out.

"Oui, Monsieur?" the waiter asked, voice crackling with anger, seizing his order book and a pen from his apron pocket, clicking the pen as though preparing to drive it into House's throat.

"Je vais prendre un sandwich au jambon et salade nature," House ordered," et café au lait."

The waiter, jotting this down, looked expectantly at Cameron, Cameron having a sense of deja vous. Looking at House and finding nothing but those cold blue eyes, Cameron plucked up her courage- and forgot what she was going to order.

"I'll have a- Um, I'll have," Cameron flipped through her menu, trying to pronounce the words, paying to attention to grammar. "I'll have un ta citron and the fromage au omelette. And salade nature, too."

Michel, raising the corners of his mouth in a confused smile, broke into English long enough for Cameron to understand:

"You don't have to order in French. Just tell me what you want."

Cameron felt her face burn as she said she wanted a salad, a small sandwich, and a cup of tea, much like she had had at lunch the other day. The garçon, smiling with mingled amusement and disgust, left Cameron and House alone once more.

"I bet you enjoyed that," Cameron muttered bitterly, twisting her fingers in her lap.

"Actually, I did, but not in the mean sense," House answered, never smiling. "That was a good effort for a beginner. Do you want to learn some real French?"

"Why should I? I already made a fool of myself."

"Yeah, you did, but we already ordered our food and there are other things to say besides what you would like to eat or drink. Would you like to learn or not?"

Cameron, smiling a little in spite of herself, nodded her head before asking, "Why would you enjoy watching me make an idiot of myself?"

"Because," House answered, looking as uncomfortable as he had before he pulled the necklace out of his pocket earlier in the evening, "You don't look like an idiot when you blush. You don't look bad at all."

Cameron smiled wider as House cleared his throat, shaking his head. She knew what he had tried to say.

He thought she looked beautiful.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"J'aime."

"J'aime," repeated Cameron, trusting in whatever House was telling her to say, hoping it was nothing embarrassing.

"Beaucoup la musique."

"Beaucoup- la musique?"

"Very good," House said, smiling slightly. "What do you think you just said?"

"I like music?"

"You catch on very quickly," he praised, finishing the last bite of his sandwich as Cameron tried to spear a lettuce leaf onto her fork. "That and it helps to be a parrot, too."

"Did you just call me a bird?"

"Did I?"

For the past hour, the two had sat over their dinner, House teaching Cameron how to put together simple sentences in French. She was not very good at it yet, and so House had her repeat after him most of the time, the evening recovering from it's unstable state to something enjoyable once more.

Cameron saw House's fingers tapping along to the piano music streaming out into the night air from inside the restaurant and Cameron, forgetting about House's obvious handicap, asked, "Would you like to dance?"

There was a few seconds of silence, in which House looked wistfully inside, the glass shell breaking for a moment for Cameron to see he truly wanted to dance. However, that moment went as quick as it came, and House shook his head no.

"I'm sorry," Cameron apologized, muttering those words for what seemed to be the tenth time that evening. "I forgot, I didn't mean to- I just..."

She didn't even try and finish her sentence, letting the silence grow between them, the music doing nothing to bridge the gap until House spoke.

"Do you know what song this is?"

"No."

"This is Moonlight Sonata, by Beethoven."

Cameron let this information wash over her, not understanding what House's tone was supposed to mean.

"And?" she asked, hesitant.

"And this is one of my favorites."

Cameron realized the full meaning of those words then and bowed her head, feeling tears prick her eyes. She had just asked him to dance to this song, one of his favorites, and he couldn't. He could play it on the piano, but he couldn't dance.

"Are you ready to go?" House asked, looking around into the night, the candles on the patio dimming by the second. The restaurant was going to close very soon. The mood dimmed, Cameron took the slip of paper with the total on it and opened her purse to dig out her wallet, House standing up and hobbling away toward the motorcycle, letting her pay after all. Cameron could hardly read the total through the glaze of tears over her eyes, but she could hear the jingle of House's keys as he pulled them from his pocket, the motorcycle engine drowning out the music coming from the building.

_-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------_

_So, their dinner date didn't go so well... Sad! I know that is so sappy about House not being able to dance to the song and teaching Cameron French, but I like it... I'm going to look back on this and laugh in a few months, but I like it because I can just express how these characters might feel in a given situation (and with me pulling their strings... ) Anyway, you might not feel like I answered some of the questions posed in this chapter, but I will in the next chapter, and things will get much better, I promise! House and Cameron's night is not a total disaster! _

_Oh, and the "bad French" was done on purpose! Hehe... If I messed up, though, where I was not supposed to (like when House was talking) please let me know so I can fix it or at least point it out for readers in the future... _

_Thank you so much for reading and please tell me what you think! Thanks again!_


	6. Chapter 6

_Hello! I bet some of you thought I would never finish this story! Hehe... I have to admit that this is the last chapter, but I have to thank every single one of you who put this on your alert and favorites list! I've decided that this story was nice, but there are other things calling me their way and I must answer! _

_I'm sad that Cameron changed her hair color in the new season of House, I have to admit. I thought her hair looked beautiful before she dyed it black. She was the "light" in House's life and now that her hair is dark, that symbolism seems to have changed. I'm still writing this chapter as if Cameron had her beautiful hair back. I'm happy the actress wanted to change her style, we shouldn't be held down by anything if we want to do something, but I think Cameron the character isn't my favorite anymore... _

_Anyway, thank you so much for supporting this story, as short as it is, and I look forward to finishing "Pale Words" and maybe even writing another House story! _

* * *

**Chapter Six**

Cameron sighed as she flopped down in her chair, exhausted. Avoiding House was hard work when the doctor didn't want to be avoided. Last night had been awful, the worst date she had been on in a long time. After getting home, she had thrown her purse to the floor, slammed the door to her bedroom, and ripped off the red dress. Why couldn't she be happy with him? She was happy thinking of him before last night, excited and nervous at the same time at what was going to happen next, but his face in her mind was a painful reminder of what she was losing. Every minute she avoided confronting him was one more minute that slipped away, one more minute she couldn't take back.

She tried to find a task to take her mind off House; she completed her first shift of clinic duty earlier that morning and there was no case at the moment to solve. Unless someone came in without an appointment or an emergency case arrived, Cameron had nothing to do until her next shift. Tidying her already tidy desk, Cameron tried to open the plastic container that held new paper clips, the replacements to the clips that had been stolen to make her necklace.

Her necklace. She had ripped it off her neck last night, and Cameron put her hand up to the back of her neck where a paper clip had snapped and gently cut her skin. It didn't sting, but it was a reminder of what she had done. She had felt slightly guilty at ruining some of the paper clips, but the necklace itself was still intact, for the most part. If she wanted to, she could still wear it after replacing some of the clips.

"Main Office paging Dr. Cameron. Dr. Cameron, please come to the Main Office."

She sighed again as she heard her name over the intercom. If they wanted her, why didn't they just call her on her office phone? Cameron struggled with the box of paper clips for a few more seconds before deciding it was a hopeless cause. She wasn't going to stress herself over a small container of silly office supplies. At least not until she made her trip to the Main Office.

* * *

Cameron immediately noticed her things had been moved when she entered her office. Papers were shuffled, her sticky notes were out, and the box of paper clips were open, an uncapped pen laying next to the plastic box. Tempted to roll up the sticky note that had her name at the top in the middle of her desk, Cameron bit her lip. He had been here, in her office, again. Did she really have to lock her things up every time she left? Curiosity taking the best of her, Cameron bent over the sticky note and read what House had written.

_Cameron,_

_I'm sorry about last night. I shouldn't have made you pay. If you want your money back, leave me a note; I'll pay for my share for last night._

_House_

* * *

House limped into his office, hardly surprised there was a bright yellow note stuck to his desk. He hadn't expected she would answer so soon, however; he had guessed the that the phony trip to the Main Office would have gotten Cameron so worked up she would be standing there herself, yelling his ear off. Pushing files off the desk with his cane, House picked up a pen and his half-pad of stolen sticky notes. He had taken half of what Cameron had in her desk, and several of her pens, too.

_House,_

_Forget it. Just don't ever ask me to eat with you again._

_Cameron_

* * *

"Dr. Cameron," the secretary called out, waving a folder at her as she passed by the receptionist desk in the lobby. "There is a folder here for you."

"From who?" Cameron asked, curious whether or not that was a case.

"I don't know," the secretary replied, honestly confused. "It's marked confidential, so I can't open it. Someone just left it here and I was going to page you to come pick it up."

Cameron took the manila folder from the lady and opened it, reveling a single sticky note stuck to the middle with a ten dollar bill attached to the folder with what else but a paper clip.

_Cameron,_

_I didn't say you had to ask me for the money, I just said you needed to respond to me for the money. Here it is._

_Would you like to come over tonight for dancing?_

_House_

Furious, Cameron asked the secretary for a sticky note and a pen, taking the ten dollars and putting it in her pocket out of spite. She scribbled out a quick note and attached it to the inside of the folder.

"Page Dr. House and tell him to get down here to pick up his envelope," Cameron said, exasperated. "And tell him the elevators aren't working so he'll have to walk down every flight of stairs from his office to get here..."

* * *

House was winded, but pleased with himself. He knew Cameron had told the secretary to tell him the elevators were not working because he had seen people get in and out of them on every single floor he had passed. Picking up the mantilla folder, House heaved a sigh and read it twice.

_House,_

_You can't dance. Shut up._

_You were a jerk last night and it's not happening again._

_Cameron_

The secretary warded House off and took her pens and notepads from his reach.

"I'm not a servant, doctor, and I don't need to be delivering personal messages like this," the older lady said defensively. "If you want to bother Dr. Cameron, you'll have to do it without my help."

"Alright then," House answered, up for a challenge, digging his own sticky note pad and pen from his jacket pocket to the disgust of the secretary..

He took the elevator to Cameron's office and stuck the note on her door, the office locked.

_Cameron,_

_I'm sorry. Please come over? I'm only going to ask one more time before I become your boss again and forever more. Can you live with that?_

_I was upset the other week because I knew how you felt. I just didn't know what to do about it. Until now._

_Love,_

_House_

_

* * *

_

Cameron ripped the note off her door and almost dropped it in the hallway. However, after reading what House had wrote, Cameron dropped her keys instead. How could he have known what she could and couldn't deal with? What made him think he knew her so well? Frustrated, Cameron tried and failed three times to unlock her office door, an intern assisting her with a concerned look in the end. Cameron dropped her files on her desk and took in a deep breath. How was she going to answer. If she didn't want to be with him any more, she didn't have to be nice about it. She didn't even have to answer. If she wasn't going to be able to live with her choice of throwing it all away after how hard she had worked to get him to notice her as more than a co-worker. And what was that last part about him being nasty just because he could pick up on the frustration she felt?

After almost a whole sticky pad later, Cameron had her final note to House. Slipping a few paper clips into her lab coat pocket, she walked to House's office and placed the note in front of him without a word.

_House,_

_What time do you want me over?_

_I'll wear my necklace._

_Love,_

_Cameron_

_

* * *

There we are! The END! How sappy is that! Hehe... I know, totally out of character, silly sappy romance stuff, but it's great to abandon all reason once in a while and just let your imagination fly! So, if I was a totally romantic, this would be perfect. Since I'm not, I'm disappointed in my own writing, but I have to say I had fun writing this story anyway! Thanks for being such great readers and I hope to write more for you in the near future! Thanks and Happy Reading!_


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